


Give me a Minute

by MrsNoggin



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Sex, Bentley Sex Challenge, Car Sex, I need more words, M/M, Smut, The Bentley - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 02:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19432084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsNoggin/pseuds/MrsNoggin
Summary: For the 666 Bentley Sex challenge. Crowley is having issues, but they'll sort themselves out.





	Give me a Minute

**Author's Note:**

> 666 words is both too much and not enough at the same time. Written for the 666 Bentley Car Sex Challenge in 666 Fics Fics Fics. Unbetaed - so fair warning.

“This has, uh, never happened to me before. I don’t know what the matter is. Sorry.” 

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, my dear. It happens to everyone once in a while, I’ve heard.”

“It’ll, erm, get going again. Just give me a minute.” Crowley flapped a hand in desperation. 

“Worrying about it won’t help at all, darling. I’m in no rush. No pressure.”

Crowley closed his eyes in humiliation. How awful. He took a deep breath and willed, begged, all the necessary parts to work again.

“Maybe it’s something you should talk to someone about?” Aziraphale suggested gently. “There are people who specialise in this kind of thing, I’ve read it somewhere.”

“Come on come on come on.” Crowley shrieked in frustration.

“Have you tried turning the starter key thingamy?”

“I haven’t used the ignition key in centuries, Angel. I don’t even know where it is!”

***

The country lane was narrow and dark, and thankfully, devoid of other people or vehicles. Which was useful, because Crowley didn’t want anyone coming to ‘ _help’_ and touching his car. His poor car, who for some reason had conked out halfway between Tadfield and London. And just how would you fix a car that had probably just _decided_ to have a break? 

Aziraphale hummed, turning a page in the book he had zapped from nowhere and settled down to read. “At least it’s cosy in here.” 

Crowley looked at him from the corner of his eyes. Yes, very cosy. Could be, uh, cosier…

“Fancy a shag?”

***

As it turned out, contrary to demon expectations, Aziraphale was in no way appalled by that idea. Crowley grabbed the book and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. He took hold of Aziraphale’s jacket and yanked him in. 

“I’ve always fantasised about having you in the Bentley,” he hissed. 

Which was true, though the practicalities had always stopped him. Tight spaces, leather upholstery, several knobs and sticks to jab you in odd places. Aziraphale made a croaking sort of whimper and kissed him, trying to climb him before Crowley had even managed to kick his seat back. The horn meeped in slight protest at having an angel behind squished against the steering wheel. 

“Hell yesss,” Crowley bit at lips and fumbled at clothes. “Let me at you.”

Aziraphale didn’t wait to be undressed, just whipped away their bottom half of clothing with a wave of his hand. Two cocks sprang forward, colliding and smearing against each other and Crowley grunted into the angel’s mouth, taking them both in a long-fingered hand and squeezing, base to tip. 

“I’d like to fuck, please.” Aziraphale, always ever so polite. 

Crowley had compartments for everything in his car: sunglasses, mobile phones, alcohol. Not lube, though; dreadful planning there. Divine intervention it would have to be. Or _very_ un-divine. He slicked up his fingers with a thought and a wish and fed them slowly up between Aziraphale’s legs and straight into his arsehole. 

“Oh, yes please and thank you.” Again, ever so polite. 

***

The best thing about lap sex was that Crowley was at mouth-level with Aziraphale’s chest. It took a minute of unbuttoning, but Crowley had found skin and fastened his teeth around a desperate nipple while the angel rode him into oblivion. He was pressed back into the seat, his head craned uncomfortably so Aziraphale could lean his elbows on the back for leverage, and he was too hot and he hadn’t been able to breathe for ages and it was _perfect_. 

Aziraphale’s moans were pitching higher and higher, so Crowley reached down in between them and grabbed his cock, making a tight ring with his hand for him to fuck into. And that’s what finished the angel off, sending him shouting and thrashing and jerking and splashing come everywhere. 

“Not on the leather,” Crowley managed to bite out, but then he was coming too, not even five minutes in, like an eager amateur. 

He’d barely caught his breath when the engine roared back to life. 

  
  
  



End file.
